i started to write this latest blog post about a year ago. i had decided to archive this blog since i haven’t been using it, but i might just change its purpose. i like the blog, and running is such a good space of thinking for me that i might use this space as a repository for the fragmentary thinking i coalesce into poetic aphoristic scraps. these scraps stand in for the more complex philosophical un/thinking i am usually doing while running. they are like code and cipher, and when i read them they unlock understanding. and that is hard to come by.

i am 1 year into my PhD and so far have no idea how all the doings of that year relate to my project. they whirl around me like debris – space junk. i am already a much-marked planet, cratered by crash-and-burns. good fossicking sites. there’s alchemy in the burn.

anyway, this is today’s poetic shard:

cresting, i realised that thought had arrived me there, eating up asphalt, spitting out stones, shedding pellucid epidermal dust. the running body that goes before or sluggishly lags, glitching in and out of the shadow of the structure.

reading: 1980. “How to Make Yourself a Body Without Organs”, A Thousand Plateaus. Trans. Brian Massumi. London and New York: Continuum, 2004. Vol. 2 of Capitalism and Schizophrenia. 2 vols. 1972-1980. Trans. of Mille Plateaux. Paris: Les Editions de Minuit. ISBN 0-8264-7694-5.


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